After All (Cape Harbor #1)(57)

“I’d like that, as long as my mom says it’s okay.”

Bowie peered over his shoulder and caught Brooklyn staring at them. Had she been watching them the whole time, wondering what he could possibly be telling her daughter? He held her gaze until she tore her eyes away. He watched her look down at the sand and wrap her arms around her torso. Was she cold? Not possible. So, what was she hiding herself from?

He longed to hold her, to ask her where she’d been and why she hadn’t told him she was leaving. Hell, he wanted to know why she didn’t ask him to go with her. They could’ve been great together, and Brystol would have a father because he knew, without a doubt and any hesitation, he would’ve stepped in to raise Austin’s child as his own. They could’ve built a family, either here or someplace else. All he wanted was to be with her. Even now he had thoughts of what it would be like to start over, to move on. Thing was, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to forgive her.

“Do you have any questions about your dad that I can answer for you?”

Brystol adjusted the way she sat by bringing her legs up. Luke moved as well and sat so he could lean up against his new best friend. “Why do you come out here every year on the anniversary of his death?”

“How do you know we do this every year?”

“Nonnie told me.”

“Are you here when we do this?” Curiosity ran rampant through his mind.

She straightened her legs and pushed her feet into the sand. “No, Simi takes us to Seattle for dinner with my grandparents, except for this year. Nonnie wanted to go to the street fair.”

“And did you go?” His mother was working a booth down there, and he wondered if they had crossed paths.

She nodded. “Twice. I went with Simi last night. It was a lot of fun. Everyone loved seeing Nonnie.”

Anger moved through his veins. Everyone in town had dismissed Carly Woods. He and everyone around him had a lot of things to make up for now that she had opened the door back into her life.

“Do you know why you’re named Brystol?” he asked her. He knew the answer without even conferring with Brooklyn but wanted to make sure Brystol knew.

She shook her head. “I don’t think I ever thought of my name having a meaning other than my mom and grandma’s names starting with a B.”

Bowie smiled. He set his bottle down in the sand, pulled his legs up so he could rest his arms on his knees, and told her. “After we graduated high school, your dad and I, along with Jason and Graham, who are over there, and Graham’s brother, Grady, piled into my mom’s small sedan and drove from here to Bristol, Tennessee, to go to a NASCAR race. This was your dad’s favorite track. It was one of the worst and best things we ever did as friends because the car didn’t have a working air conditioner, and driving across country in August was miserable, but we had a blast. We each took turns driving so others could sleep, we ate off dollar menus from various fast-food places, used truck stops to shower, and would stop and visit tourist traps just so we could say we’ve been somewhere. The race, though, I remember it like it was yesterday—hot, humid, and under the lights. The roar of the engines, the smell of burning gas and rubber, and the feel of forty-three cars rumbling toward the first turn was something I’ve never forgotten. Nor does one forget that Dale Earnhardt won the race after starting twenty-sixth, making history, the way only the man known as the Intimidator could do.”

“I don’t know him.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Your mom was never a fan of racing, even though we made her come to the track with us all the time.”

“So I’m named after a racetrack?” She sounded skeptical.

Bowie nodded and then started second-guessing himself. “That’s my best guess. Only your mom can confirm.”

“My mom says that you and my dad were best friends.”

“Every memory I have from growing up has your dad in it.”

“That’s pretty cool. I told my mom I think it would be funny if I went to the same high school as her and my dad. I don’t know, though.”

“About what?”

She glanced over to where her mom was. “If we’re staying.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yeah.” She went back to petting Luke. “I like here better than Seattle. It’s so quiet, and I can be on the beach whenever I want.”

Bowie wanted her to stay. He wanted Brooklyn to stay as well and wondered if he could do anything to encourage her to make the decision to call Cape Harbor their home. He focused on his group of friends again and noticed not only that Rennie was here but also that Grady was approaching. He stumbled and almost fell into the firepit; however, Graham was there to catch his brother before he face-planted into the fire.

“You!” Grady screamed and pointed toward Brooklyn. “You,” he said again, but this time the hairs on Bowie’s arms rose to attention. “Stay here,” he said to Brystol as he stood and ran toward his friends.

“Come on, Grady—you’re drunk. Let’s go home.” Graham was trying to defuse the situation.

“When isn’t he drunk?” Bowie heard Mila yell out.

Bowie stood on one side of Grady, while Graham tried to keep him in place, but the man was using his might to push through. “I fucking hate you,” he screamed toward Brooklyn. Bowie looked toward her, but she was staring at the ground. Brystol, however, was right behind her, having disobeyed him. Her eyes were wide, and he felt the need to go to her, to shelter her from what was happening. Bowie didn’t want Brystol to witness Grady’s outburst and tried to push him away, but he held strong. “It’s you who should’ve died. Not him. You don’t deserve to live after what you did to him. You stupid bitch. Austin loved you, and you . . .” Grady stopped talking. He fell to the sand with the help of Graham. “She hurt him,” he mumbled.